


which is right i love or loved you

by Hwata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesiac Draco Malfoy, Black Hermione Granger, Eventual Smut, Except not far enough that he's racist cuz ew, F/M, Family Feels, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Heavy Angst, Indian Harry Potter, Mental Health Issues, More tags added in the future probably, Not Epilogue Compliant, Possible ethnicity changes for other whites, These kids are so adorable, You can pry these two from my cold dead fingers, on so many levels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-07-10 13:24:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hwata/pseuds/Hwata
Summary: Waking up in St. Mungo's is nothing unusual to Draco Malfoy who frequently takes naps during his breaks. But one day he wakes up, not as an employee, but as a patient, having forgotten 6 years of his life which to his greatest shock includes loving and marrying Hermione Granger. They work together to bring his memory back only to learn his memory loss is no accident. There is someone very powerful who wants Draco Malfoy and will stop at nothing to get him.





	1. It's Been A Long Day

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it past that cheesy ass summary, I applaud you! I wrote it and I can't take it seriously.

Draco Malfoy never missed the Manor.

Without addressing the memories of its final years, his childhood had been marked by cold and quiet hallways that led to dozens of empty rooms. He’d had other purebloods for company, some of them even real friends, but what did they mean to the superiority complex his parents had instilled in him? No one was on his level, (what a lie that turned out to be!) and so, he was always alone.

During his birthday trip with Scorpius, Draco decided he would do all he could to make sure his son never felt alone. The first step was to move out of that deathtrap of a house. It had almost gotten him and his mother, he wouldn’t let his son succumb to its legacy.

That is all to say that nothing brought Draco more joy than hearing the excited patters of his son’s feet while he ran from room to room. Draco chuckled as he knelt in front of the kitchen door. He waited as the patters got closer.

Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing the three-year old tornado he had for a son.

“Papa!!!” Scorpius screamed at the top of his lungs. Draco winced briefly before spreading his arms as Scorpius ran straight into him. He dramatically fell back, moaning and groaning.

“Scorp, you must’ve grown at least a foot since I last saw you!”

“It’s only been 2 days!” Scorpius giggled into his ear.

“And I’ve missed you every second of it,” Draco responded. Scorpius grinned widely as he clambered off his father.

“ _Mémé_ will be upset if she sees us on the floor.” He grabbed hold of Draco’s hand and began pulling to heave him up. Draco gave a full-bodied laugh. He was amazed at how perceptive his son was.

“Let her be,” Draco said, sitting up and pulling Scorpius into his lap. “Nothing can overcome a happy Papa!” Draco began to tickle him and Scorpius kicked his legs wildly, crying for Draco to stop.

Narcissa Malfoy walked into the kitchen at that moment. Draco grinned impishly at her, daring her to say something. He raised an eyebrow at her and she raised one in return. He continued to tickle Scorpius as Scorpius gasped out, “ _Mémé, au secours_ _s'il vous plait!”_

Narcissa walked past them to sit down at the small table, unfolding a napkin onto her lap as Dora, one of the kitchen house elves, arranged for tea on the table.

“It is time for tea, Draco. Unhand my grandson.”

“You’ll have to make me!” Draco challenged. Narcissa held back a smirk while she lifted her wand. She sent a golden spark that passed through him. He gripped his chest in mock defeat and fell to the floor.

Scorpius ran over to Narcissa, hugging her and thanking her for saving him.

“Don’t you think your Papa will want tea as well? Go wake him up, he won’t tickle you now, I swear,” she reassured her adorable grandson. She brushed back his white-blond curls affectionately and smiled as he focused on his father draped over the floor like a discarded toy.

She’d never gotten to be so playful with Draco when he was this age, because of both herself and Lucius, and she regretted it with all her heart. When Draco had come back from his trip, determined to bring a better life for Scorpius, she had agreed to all his conditions and suggestions. She hadn’t blinked at losing her sister all those years ago because Andromeda was still alive but the War had put her life into perspective. She would do anything to see her family simply happy, including fake-stunning her son to fake-rescue her grandson.

“Do I just use the magic words?” he asked. He ran to his father after Narcissa nodded in reply.

“I love you, Papa,” Scorpius whispered into Draco’s ear, planting a slimy kiss on his cheek. Draco opened his eyes in wonder and hugged Scorpius in gratitude for saving his life. He scooped him up into his arms and carried him over to the table, sitting across from his mother. Narcissa stared at him pointedly, causing Draco to sigh. He placed Scorpius into the seat between him and his mother and gestured for Dora to pour them their tea.

“Is it finished?” Narcissa asked. Draco nodded as he pointed at which cakes he would eat with his tea.

“The Manor is no longer. We still have some forms and documents to sort through before opening the library and gardens to the public but I doubt it should take longer than a month. It took only a little over a month to move and tear down the Manor.”

Something had to be done once they left the Manor and Draco loathed the idea of selling it and the land to someone else. The property was too beautiful for that. He’d come up with the idea of opening a public wizarding library and garden space.

“Two months,” Narcissa corrected, mixing cream into her tea. “Bureaucracy is slow, and we don’t have the influence we used to. Open it on Halloween. Invite Harry Potter.”

Draco looked up at his mother in shock. She continued to mix as though she hadn’t spoken a name they hadn’t actively avoided for years. “It’s the 10-year anniversary of the start of the Second War. It’ll be great publicity and,” she paused, meeting his shocked gaze finally.  “You can move on.”

Draco nodded, mindlessly stopping Scorpius from taking his third frosted pastry. He’d never go to bed on time if he ate more than two.

“Speaking of moving on,” Narcissa continued. “Daphne visited while you were away. You should call on her before you see Theo.”

Draco tensed as he turned to glare at his mother. Scorpius squirmed excitedly in his chair.

“If we’re going to see Aunt Daphne, will we also be seeing Mama?” Scorpius questioned. Narcissa sighed. She frowned apologetically at Draco who tried to control his breathing as he thought of ways to tell his son he would probably never see his mother again.

…

Daphne Greengrass always missed her sister. Draco knew this, had watched her protect her in Hogwarts and during the Dark Lord’s reign. So, he was understandably angry that she put on an act every time she saw him, cursing at her sister and claiming she didn’t understand why Astoria had left them.

But she knew why. She knew better than Draco ever would, and he had no doubt in his mind that Daphne had encouraged Astoria to do what she felt was right. Daphne hadn’t known that Astoria was determined enough to leave everything, (specifically her son,) behind her to pursue the life she wanted.

She was sitting in a café not too far from Theo’s, with giant, dark sunglasses hiding her eyes from the people nearby as if the scar that stretched from her chin down the length of her neck didn’t draw enough attention. Draco sat down across from her and she smiled meekly. She lifted her hand, calling to a waiter. Draco declined to eat or drink.

“Have I caught you at a bad time?” Daphne asked as the waiter walked away to get her chamomile tea and slice of lemon cake.

Draco shook his head. “I just had tea with Scorpius and my mother. They both say hello.”

Daphne allowed herself a bright smile before it fell from her face. Draco smirked, leaning back.

“So what news do you have of our dear Astoria?”

“I have an address,” she said, fidgeting slightly in her seat. Draco thought briefly of how every Pureblood he knew was slowly losing all the careful training they’d had as children. She would’ve never let her nerves show before the war. “You should write to her.”

“To say what exactly? ‘I know you’re indulging in your American toy, but our son keeps asking when you are coming home’?”

“Yes!” Daphne lifted her hand up to slap it on the table before she caught herself. Draco scoffed. “She’s not listen-if you talk to her, maybe she’ll know it’s all real.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and leaned forward. He crossed his legs, folding his hands onto the table.

“What is all real?” he questioned. Daphne looked away. The waiter deposited her drink and food in the space of the silence, quickly backing away. The quiet conversations of the other patrons filled their ears as Draco waited for Daphne to answer him. She wouldn’t. He decided to just ask her. “Did you tell her?”

Daphne’s head snapped toward him, the conflicting anger and guilt evident all over her face. _That’s what the sunglasses are for_? he mused, repressing the urge to roll his eyes at her. He had very little space in his mind to care how Daphne expressed herself or how she was feeling. They’d never been close friends and were only connected through other people like Astoria or Blaise who she’d had a long, torturous relationship with. The only reason she was still in his life was because of her genuine affection for Scorpius.

“Did you tell her?” he repeated, leaning closer to her. Daphne nodded and lifted her tea to her lips. Draco groaned loudly enough that several people looked over at them. Daphne busied herself with her tea and snack while Draco pressed his palms against his eyes and struggled to keep his breathing controlled. “That was not your place, you wretched bitch.”

“She needed to know,” she defended, the clink of her spoon against the teacup making them both wince slightly as they remembered how noisily the Dark Lord had drunk his tea. Daphne took a deep breath to focus back on the matter at hand. “She needed to know her actions have consequences.”

Draco snorted and stood up. “I agree but you’d do better to appeal to her love for Scorpius than for me.”

“Sit down,” she pleaded, glancing around the café warily. When it was obvious she would need to say more for him to give her a chance, she sighed. “I tried, okay. I’ve tried everything and she won’t listen to me anymore. She claims to be…”

Draco raised an eyebrow at Daphne.

“Happy?” he supplied. Daphne shrugged. Draco growled because she knew and he was over her coddling. Through his anger, he could still feel his heart contract. She was happy? His legs gave out under him and he landed roughly in his seat.

“If she is happy after more than a year with no contact with her son, then there is nothing for me to say to her. Good luck to her.”

“Please try? So that way we can say we tried everything we could?” She held out a slim piece of paper to him. He let her hand stay erect until it started to wobble. He took the address and looked at it, holding back tears as he stared at the hometown of Astoria’s happiness. That was the realest thing of this all. She was not coming back. “Scorpius deserves us to try everything.”

Draco sighed, closing his eyes and ignoring the stray tear that escaped.

“He deserves better than her,” he stated. Daphne nodded in agreement. “But I will write to her. If that is all, I’m off to Theo’s.”

Daphne lifted her sunglasses, exposing him to clear blue eyes he’d just been mentally cursing. It made him think of another reason for her sunglasses: Astoria and Daphne could’ve been twins.

“Draco,” she started in a whisper. “Just because you say it like that doesn’t make it any less of a cemetery. You need to stop—”

“I think we’ve reached the limit of what you can order me to do,” Draco spat.

“I’m just trying to help!” Her voice rose as she started crying. “Merlin, Draco! You need help and I just want to give yo—”

“Keep it,” he interrupted. “Keep whatever it is.”

Daphne looked at him with angry, reddened eyes and lifted her chin in defiance.

“I don’t have many friends Draco, we don’t have many friends so excuse me for trying to be there for you,” Daphne argued. She picked a few coins out of her coin purse and stood up to leave. She paused before she had left their table. As she slid her sunglasses back onto her face, her defense against her lonely world, she told him, “Say hi to Theo from me. Tell him I miss him.”

Draco stared straight ahead for a moment. “Of course,” he finally said. She nodded and practically ran from the café. He folded his arms onto the table and rested his head inside them, willing himself not to cry.

Over Astoria, who he’d loved with all his heart despite their arranged marriage, who he had become a healer for. Over Theo, who had been his only friend throughout the war, who’d survived Voldemort only to be murdered by a random with righteous anger in his veins. Over Daphne, who was sweeter than life had been to her, who had tried so hard her whole life, who was trying hard with Draco and while he knew this, he could never stop himself from being so mean.

He didn’t even bother to think of Scorpius. He would’ve cried like a baby.

…

Since Draco had left the café later than he’d planned, at the cemetery he was greeted by Pansy. She was leaning on Theo’s tombstone, a bouquet of pheasant’s eye and pink carnations beside her. She smiled smugly at him as she patted the space on the other side of the flowers.

“I’ve finally beat you to Theo. What kept you back? Scorpius being a brat?” she questioned bluntly. Draco chuckled. He sat down and rested his head on Theo.

“Daphne,” he answered simply.

“Huh. I should’ve guessed as Blaise ran off not too long ago when he got a text from her,” Pansy replied.

Draco groaned. “Don’t tell me they’re back together!” Draco could not handle any more of their drama. He glanced at Pansy and she shrugged in response.

“She gets weirdly vulnerable around you and when she’s vulnerable, she knows she can call Blaise and he’ll come running. He won’t let her go,” Pansy explained.

“He’s got a savior complex about her, anyone can see that,” Draco added. They sat in silence for a moment as Draco contemplated Blaise and Daphne’s relationship. Daphne always did act shy and vulnerable around him…

“She doesn’t…Is Daphne in love with me?” Draco asked Pansy. She gasped, slapping her hands together too loud for the creepy cemetery vibe they had going. They both jumped at the noise.

“Morgana’s muff, she’s in love with you!!!” she gasped. “That is so messed up! You’re married to her little sister!”

“Was,” he corrected. Pansy frowned. Draco laughed. “She’s apparently found the love of her life in that wanker and part of me knows she still cares about Scorpius, that none of this is about him but…” Pansy waited patiently for him to continue talking. “If this guy’s the love of her life, what am I? What was I?”

Pansy didn’t respond. She brushed her fingers through his hair gently and he was suddenly transported back to sixth year.

“I’m guessing that’s what you’re sharing with Theo today,” Pansy said. Draco smiled at her subject change.

“That and that Malfoy Gardens and Library are almost finished.” Pansy nodded approvingly. “What will you be sharing? How upset you are that Granger’s moved on with one of the Indian twins?”

Pansy scoffed, gently smacking his head before bringing it back to her side. “I am not hung up on Hermione Granger!” she exclaimed. Draco turned to face her fully and raised his brow. She rolled her eyes.

“I swear, I am not,” she reassured him.

“But what about her creamy chocolate thighs?”

“I described them as milk chocolate.” Draco raised his brow again and laughed. Pansy laughed with him. “Okay, you got me there but she’s saved in my phone as ‘Milk Chocolate’ now, I’m never gonna forget that. And the sex was nice but there was nothing else,” she asserted.

“If you say so,” Draco relented.

“I do. I haven’t thought of her outside a friend way since we ended our ‘co-workers with benefits’ arrangement. Weirdly enough, I think the sex made us friends. Like it did for you and me.”

They laughed heartily.

“If that’s how you make friends, you should have hundreds by now,” Draco commented.

“Don’t be jealous of my slag swag, darling. If things are done with Astoria, this is your time. We can work around the kid,” Pansy joked. “But, uh, that’s actually what I want to tell Theo. I think I’m pregnant.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “This’ll be quite the conversation,” he murmured. Pansy grinned.

…

It was half past 6 and Scorpius shouldn’t be awake, but Draco hadn’t come home to say goodnight before work yet. Narcissa had tried to coax him with promises of treats, toys, and a father to see when he woke up, but nothing soothed the boy. His face was slowly turning red from the strength of his cries.

Draco rushed into the room, apologizing profusely. Scorpius met Draco halfway, crying into his father’s shoulder.

“Scorp, you should be asleep,” he whispered as he carried Scorpius into bed. “You also scared _Mémé_ and you know better.”

Scorpius sniffled as he looked over Draco’s shoulder at Narcissa. “Did I scare you?” he cried.

Narcissa shook her head. “No, _mon petit fils_. You did nothing wrong.”

Draco held in the sigh crawling up his chest and gestured for his mother to leave. He laid Scorpius down, getting under the covers with him. It was only a few minutes of Draco soothing his son before the little boy fell asleep, exhausted from crying and worrying about his father.

Draco carefully removed himself from the bed, replacing his body with a large stuffed dragon named Draco, and hurried into his room to change into his healer robes. His mother was in there waiting for him.

“Draco, you should’ve called or done something, we were both worried!”

“I was fine, I was with Pansy and Theo,” he explained.

“Yes, but you should’ve called!” Draco heard the unshed tears in her voice and he paused. He turned around to see his mother with her eyes covered. “He kept asking me where you were and I didn’t know and then it was 6 and he kept asking—” She couldn’t speak any further past her tears.

Draco walked briskly to his mother and hugged her tightly.

“I’m okay Mother, I promise you,” he said softly. She nodded into his hug and gripped him just as tightly. “I started with Theo late and I lost track of time, that is all.”

“We love you so much, Draco,” Narcissa mumbled into his shirt. He smiled, kissing the side of her head.

“I love you both. More than I can say. I’m sorry I worried you,” Draco whispered.

Narcissa broke out of the hug, wiping her tears away and nodding for Draco to continue getting dressed for work.

“Well, you can make it up to me by telling me how Miss Parkinson is handling Miss Granger having a new lover?”

“Mother,” Draco reprimanded, looking at her with exasperation. She gave him a perfect smile. “I wouldn’t have told you about them in the first place if I knew you were going to gossip about them. Do you know how embarrassing and uncomfortable it was to have Goyle’s mother ask me if I had been Pansy’s beard in Hogwarts?”

“A little gossip never hurt anyone, did it?” Draco rolled his eyes at her. “And it never made the press, so it would still be a secret. A more widely-known secret.”

“I am not saying a word, Mother,” He grabbed his work satchel from his desk and skipped to his mother. He bent down for her to kiss his head. “I am off to work, I won’t be back until around 9 tomorrow.”

 _“_ Alright my darling, go heal children. I’ll see if Pansy’s said anything to Dahlia on the matter.”

Draco smiled at his mother before rushing out to floo to St. Mungo’s. 

…

St. Mungo’s was a rush of wrongly ingested potions and misread spells. It wasn’t until around 3 AM when things began to slow down and Draco had time for a nap.

Draco knew he’d turned off the lights before going to bed so the fluorescent rays streaming into his closed eyelids had him pissed off already. Except he was now aware of a body lying beside him and he could think of 2 doctors that would be so bold as to climb into bed with him.

He opened his eyes and shifted up in the bed, pausing at the sight beside him. The woman had a large mane of curly hair, one he would recognize anywhere, and wore a simple green dress robe. He refused to entertain the idea that he knew this woman. He surveyed the room, stumbling further and further into confusion as he looked.

He wasn’t in the doctors’ room, he was in an actual hospital bed. Flowers, cards, and gifts seemed to tower on every surface. On the bedside table next to him was a picture of two kids of drastic age difference smiling into the camera, one who vaguely looked like Scorpius.

 _Where is Scorpius??_ He thought. His breathing became erratic. Where was his son and what was wrong with him that he was in a hospital bed? It couldn’t be his fault, could it? They’d avoided hospitals last time…

The woman moved suddenly. Draco jumped, trying to avoid the arm that was attempting to wrap around him. This couldn’t be who he thought it was so, he roughly shoved her arm away. She woke up, lifting her head sleepily.

Draco watched Hermione Granger while she began to cry. She covered her mouth when her cries turned into screeches. She sat up on her knees, inching closer to him.

“After everything, everything,” she dragged the repeated word out, her eyes momentarily hardening into a glare before they returned to their overwhelmed relief. _Her eyes have always been ridiculously expressive_ , he thought. “we’ve been through, you had better have a good explanation for this.” She reached out to Draco. He leaned out of her way.

“I’m sorry, why are you here?”

“What?” she gasped.

“Do-We-I-” Draco stuttered, unsure where to start. “Where’s Scorpius? I want to see my son right now.”

“He’s home, honey,” she replied. Her voice was starting to fill with the confusion Draco had been feeling since he opened his eyes.

Draco spluttered and began to laugh. “Have I dreamt myself into a new world? Honey? Granger, aren’t you dating Parvati Patil?”

Hermione’s brow furrowed. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she settled on a trembling pout.

“Oh, Draco,” her voice wavered, her eyes watered, and she watched Draco move away as she moved closer. “Please…” She paused, biting her lip. When she spoke again, her voice was even weaker.

“Draco, what year is it?”

His face scrunched in confusion. What kind of elaborate, idiotic joke was this?

“It’s 2007,” he answered.

Hermione blew out a breath that dissolved into more cries, whimpering “no” over and over. Draco watched her break down with more curiosity than confusion. Her entire body seemed to be trembling, her cries softened only because she’d buried her face in her arm. She rotated between crying and sniffling and coughing in an endless cycle that would’ve made Draco angry if he didn’t feel like he was missing something very important.

He tentatively rubbed her shoulder in what he hoped was a soothing manner. He’d only ever comforted two people in his life and neither of them were there.

“It’s not 2007 anymore, is it?” he asked softly. He’d watched heartbreak in his reflection enough to know what it looks like; Hermione Granger was heartbroken over him. He had missed something very important.

 Hermione looked up at him instead of responding. She threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly, rubbing her face along his shoulder. Draco hesitated for a moment before he returned her hug.

A few doctors and nurses rushed into the room suddenly, relief evident in their faces as they took in the scene. Draco recognized Healer Moxon right away but frowned at the gray hair enveloping the man’s head. A younger healer stepped forward with his chart in her hand.

“Healer Malfoy, you gave your wife quite a scare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the story begins! 
> 
> This is my first [published] Dramione fic so I hope you guys enjoyed it! I have a rough outline of the story but no idea how long this will be though if you go off my introduction chapter above, we can all expect something along the lines of a small novel. I have a pretty extensive timeline to go off of so there is a ton of material to use.
> 
> I promise the story will get lighter, we are just starting from a not-so-great period in Draco's life so that is his current mindset. I will give warnings in the beginning of the chapter when we start talking about not-so-great stuff. We're also gonna get a ton of flashbacks and updates on everyone's lives since the war because a lot has changed and even before when this fic takes place, some shit had gone down. I'm excited to write and share this story with you guys so review and let me know what you think! 
> 
> See you guys next time! xx


	2. Old Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been way too long!!! I'm so sorry but the good news is I know the climax and the ending of this fic which I did not previously know. The epilogue is written and ready for when this journey ends. I also switched cities, which had minimum tears but maximum frustration so it's been hard to focus but thank jehovah for k-pop, c-dramas, and Wild Nothing because without them, we'd still be waiting for this chapter.
> 
> Without further ado, I present the next chapter...

Draco could feel himself waking up and he dreaded it. What would he wake up to now? Was he married to Harry fucking Potter in this life? Or worse, someone from Hufflepuff? Or the worst possible person, a Weasley!

He felt no light on him this time. He shifted in the bed to check it next. It felt as uncomfortable as the doctor beds. He sighed inwardly, opening his eyes, and determined to see Scorpius, to reassure himself that everything was okay.

Except he was still in the ugly hospital bed, in the pale hospital room filled with the affections of people he probably didn’t remember caring about. He groaned loudly, his hands curling into fists.

“Draco, are you hurt?” His mother’s voice was like a calming potion to his nerves. He turned to the right to look at her and audibly gasped at what he saw. His mother looked older, like Healer Moxon, but she was also bald. A turquoise silk scarf was wrapped around her head, culminating in a small, flower on her left temple. She smiled warmly at Draco, but he could see the weariness in her. She was sick.

“Are you hurt?” he countered. She shook her head and wiped a tear before it could even fall from her eye.

“I’m better.” _She had been sick then,_ he thought as he carefully nodded in response. “Are you better, my dear?”

“I remember having amnesia,” he offered, smirking. Narcissa chuckled and moved her chair closer to his bed. They reached for each other at the same time, hugging tightly.

The doctors had asked Hermione Granger-no, her name was Hermione Malfoy-Granger; they’d asked the most tolerable of the Golden Trio who’d been glued to Draco’s chest to leave so they could examine him, and she refused. She had agreed to get out of his bed but she had stayed for the entire process, despite the wary glances he had shot her. In the end, she had been useful in answering about his more recent health.

“Well, er, it’s clear Healer Malfoy has severe amnesia but there are witnesses who say he simply passed out while treating a patient, so we can rule out an obliviating spell,” the young healer, Finley, explained.

“Is it possible someone obliviated him while he was in his coma?” Hermione questioned sharply.

“I was in a coma?” Draco exclaimed, sitting up. Hermione grabbed his hand and he resisted the urge to pull away from her. She saw the tension in his face anyway and removed her hand, sighing.

“Yes, it’s been nine days,” Hermione said.

“We monitor our coma patients pretty heavily, Hermione dear,” Healer Moxon reassured her, stepping forward. Draco watched his mentor walk up to Hermione and hug her. “No one outside of family visitors and healers are allowed on this floor.”

“You could probably tell us more about the activity in this room than the wards,” Healer Finley supplemented. Hermione nodded in agreement, some of the harshness falling off her. “We will still check the wards, of course. We will also do some more blood work and see if we can find out why Healer Malfoy woke up and why like this.”

“I want the analysis by tomorrow. Twenty-four hours should be enough so no later than 6 pm,” Hermione commanded, her voice forceful.

Draco’s eyes widened, his mouth softly popping open. Who was she?

Healer Finley pursed her lips and agreed before leaving the room with the other healers. One nurse checked his vitals while the other drew blood into three separate vials. Healer Moxon had stayed in the room, whispering what Draco assumed were soothing words when he heard his mother’s name.

“Is my mother here?” Draco asked. “Can I see her?”

Hermione stared at Draco for a moment, her eyes red and tired. She hadn’t aged like Healer Moxon, Draco noticed. Before Draco could really focus on how lovely she looked, she sniffled and turned away from him.

“Yeah, I’ll get her,” she answered. “Don’t forget to rest.”

…

Narcissa and Draco sat in silence for a couple of hours. Draco was grateful to have someone he could remember loving and Narcissa was grateful that her son was alive.

“What year is it?” Draco broke the silence. Curiosity had gotten the better of him.

“It’s past midnight so it’s November 17, 2013 now,” Narcissa told him. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Six years is a long time,” he replied.

“You’re taking it fairly well,” Narcissa commented, smirking.

“There’s not much to take. I only know about…her.”

Narcissa reached down into a bag beside her and pulled a small leather-bound journal with colored paper sticking out on all sides.

“Hermione made this for you,” she said, handing the journal to him. “It is notes on your life since 2007, divided by those colored papers.”

Draco glanced between his mother and the journal repeatedly with comically wide eyes.

“It’s been a few hours since I woke up!” he exclaimed.

“Hermione has always been thorough,” Narcissa offered as explanation.

Draco chuckled humorlessly in reply. He began to flip through the journal. It started with family which was coded as blue and he noticed a star name that wasn’t Scorpius. That could only mean he’d had another child. He quickly continued through, barely looking at the single red marker indicating work-related information and people. He stumbled on a green-colored marker for the profile on his relationship with Harry Potter. Green meant friend.

“I should’ve known this would happen,” he grumbled to himself before shoving the opened book into his mother’s hands. She covered her mouth to hide her giggle and looked at him with perfect neutrality. “Am I friends with the Weasleys as well? Does this life only get worse from here?”

“No, Draco, we still have taste,” she answered, rolling her eyes and passing the book back to him.

Draco sighed in relief. He wasn’t sure he was ready for so much change.

Narcissa watched him tap the journal with quick fingers and laid her hand on top of his. He had developed the nervous tick during the War, and her heart hurt every time she saw it.

“Start with something familiar, like Scorpius or me.”

“Yes, but I’m sure…she’s a part of it all, there’s no way to escape all the unfamiliar,” Draco argued. “I mean, how did this all come about? Six years? Six years is all it took for me to get remarried and have another kid?”

“You have three more kids actually. One who’s adopted. His name is Calloway.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “That is of the same incredulity of me being married to Hermione Granger! I love kids, but Scorpius was more than enough six years ago. Why did I adopt? Especially if we can have kids ourselves!”

“I don’t know all the details, dear. You should read the journal or ask Hermione,” Narcissa advised.

“For me, it was only yesterday you were asking for gossip about Hermione and Pansy,” Draco said in awe. “And now she’s your daughter-in-law.”

“I forgot about that entirely!” Narcissa gasped with a smile that which almost immediately turned into a reprimanding frown. “Draco Lucius Malfoy, please tell me you never told her about the gossiping.”

Draco let out a full-bodied laugh. “Mother, I can honestly say I don’t recall.”

…

_Work:_

_You still work as a child healer in St. Mungo’s and are currently researching the affect of long-term magic suppression on children alongside continued studying and learning as a healer._

_In late 2007, there was a new law that wizarding children, including muggleborns, would have their magical core suppressed until they could go to Hogwarts to allow them to better interact with the Muggle world as I’m sure you remember a lot more people were putting their kids in Muggle schools before Hogwarts. You thought this was a bad idea and actually consulted me (see: Hermione Malfoy-Granger, page 2) which lead to us partnering up to revoke the law. We haven’t succeeded yet but we have a good case forming._

_You are in the process of creating a spell to better incubate premature babies. At the moment, the process involves tiring, continuous surgeries that strain both healer and baby. You found out that most premature wizarding babies encounter physical and magical difficulties in the future because of this process and became determined to change that. This spell would create a fake womb around the birthing mother’s lower half to trick the baby into thinking it is simply moving in the womb. So far you have figured out how the magical womb should act but there is still more to be done. This is second to the magic suppression case since you are most worried about the children its already affecting; it’s also a shared project with Healer Park from the wizarding hospital in South Korea (I always forget the name!) who is a wizard gynecologist._

_Healer Moxon still mentors you and he is a frequent dinner guest for us. Healer Turner and Healer Wigglebob regularly work with you now; even though Healer Turner is still annoying, you’ve learned to work with him amicably so please refrain from any snarky comments. You do have permission to curse him if he says anything about the children, we agreed on that when I was pregnant with Rigel (see: Hermione Malfoy-Granger, page 6 or see Rigel, page 1)._

_You are well respected at St. Mungo’s._  

 

Draco noticed that work seemed to be the shortest entry and so it was the first thing he read when he awoke later that morning after he called a nurse to help him use the toilet. It seemed they hadn’t done any spells yet to help him with muscle atrophy and he had asked the nurse to make sure that was the first thing they did next.

He remembered there being talks of the suppression law but had never considered it would be approved by the Wizengamot. He was happy to know that he was fighting against it. There was no way that could be helpful to the children in the long-run.

He noticed he’d been right to assume that even if he avoided the entries on Hermione, she would show up anyway. He took a deep sigh before turning to the front of the journal where Hermione Malfoy-Granger’s blue tab began the story of his life of the past six years.

 

_Hermione Jean Malfoy-Granger:_

_If I had to think back to the first time we saw each other after the War, I think it was the opening of the law firm with Pansy and Blaise but the most important one you won’t remember: McGonagall arranged for workshops and seminars at Hogwarts for the students to hear about the War and what led to it. Similar things were happening at Ministry but we happened to be on the same panel at Hogwarts. We weren’t informed about who we’d be speaking with to push ourselves to confront the past or at least that’s what we were told when we both separately complained. I was uncomfortable speaking around you and you felt like it was disrespectful to me for them to do this._

_One day, you talked about when Harry, Ron, and I were brought to the Manor and how that was the defining moment you got rid of your prejudice. How before that you had questioned what you’d been taught and that the war seemed unnecessary, but you still believed in blood purity. Then, you saw me get tortured and you knew everything you’d believed before was wrong. I punched you in the face after you’d finished speaking._

Draco gasped softly, aware of his mother’s light snores in the chair-transfigured-into-a-bed beside him.

_It felt like you were using my trauma to uplift yourself and all my repressed anger from school erupted. Looking back on it, I feel like McGonagall expected too much of us. Our incident was not the first or the last of similar things, especially since the Battle Anniversary Ball at the time still had no Slytherin attendants in fear of confrontation after the attacks of 2002. But you were gracious about it and you apologized even though I needed to. Things were awkward until you opened the Malfoy Library & Gardens. I went there to be a social safety net for Harry but ended up being one for you as well. I also met Scorpius and we became enamored with each other throughout the night. At the end of the night, we talked about what happened at the Manor and I came to terms with the fact that you had really changed; it wasn’t just Pansy and Blaise trying to get me to be friends with their friend._

Draco startled at the last sentence. Pansy and Blaise had never mentioned Hermione to him outside of stories of Pansy’s affair and expected work mentions.

_We started talking more after that and by Christmas, we were good friends. In January, you came to me about the Magic Suppression Law and we decided to fight it together. It brought us closer. I can’t tell you when you first started developing feelings for me, I wish I’d asked. I realized I might have feelings for you when Astoria showed up. Daphne had told Astoria about Scorpius’s 4 th birthday and she came to the party, pregnant and with her new husband. I was furious. At this point, we’d talked about everything you’d gone through with Astoria. I knew what her coming back could do to you and you put on a strong face for Scorpius. I made sure you knew you didn’t have to be strong for me. We stayed up all night, talking about anything that wasn’t Astoria, and you suddenly said, “I never would’ve gotten through today without you. How many times are you going to save me?” and my heart skipped._

Draco smirked a little, proud of past Draco. It was a great line.

_I was in love with you from that moment._

“Draco?”

He looked up to see Hermione looking at him hesitantly from the doorway, her eyes carefully avoiding the journal. He was tempted to pretend he hadn’t been reading her entry but what was there to hide? She’d written it.

“Hi,” he greeted her. She offered a small smile and walked into the room, revealing a large bag at her side. “What’s in there?”

“Some clothes for you. We don’t know how long you’ll have to be here but wearing a patient’s robe this entire time seems a bit much.”

“My healers might disagree,” he told her. He knew he would if a patient’s companions did the same.

“Well let them say something to me,” she snapped as she pulled different colored robes and muggle clothing from the bag and put them into the dresser by the toilet. He raised his brows at her.

“The Hermione Granger I knew annoyingly followed rules by the word.”

Hermione paused in her motions. Draco waited to see if she would respond.

“You never knew me, Draco. Not from when you remember.” Her voice was soft, and he realized he may have said the wrong thing. He doesn’t know her, in the present, and he’s supposed to be her loving husband. Or so he assumed. He hadn’t finished her entry yet to know what their current relationship was like.

When she turned around, he lifted the journal to get her attention. She met his eyes, and he gave her a soft smile.

“I’m trying to know you,” he offered. She took a deep, staggering breath and smiled.

“That’s all I can ask for,” she replied. Her eyes shone with unshed tears but the warmth and love in them was undeniable.

…

Hermione sat on his left side as his mother was still asleep on his right. His mother had been woken a little while after Hermione had arrived but had swiftly gone back to sleep. Her sickness (they still hadn’t explained it to him,) and the treatment for it had exhausted her body so she needed more sleep than usual.

Hermione was reading through parchments and adding little notes here and there; he assumed it was work as he’d seen Pansy and Blaise do similar actions.

Draco felt uncomfortable reading more about Hermione while they were in the same room, so he moved onto the section dedicated to his friends. He purposefully ignored the Harry Potter marker. He had time to know about everything.

They mostly sat in silence, only interrupted when a worker brought them both breakfast (“You get food too?” “I’m pretty sure it’s Harry’s doing. I rarely left here once they told me about you.”) and when a nurse came to spell his muscles back to comfort. She advised him to still take it slow as the sudden change to his body could confuse it anymore. He waited until the nurse left to roll his eyes.

“I’m a healer, for Salazaar’s sake, I know this,” he grumbled. Hermione snickered.

“She’s doing her job. You would’ve been upset if she didn’t say anything,” Hermione countered.

Draco attempted to shrug off her logic, and she snickered again.

“Do you…have any questions about what’s written there?” she asked, gesturing to the journal in his lap.

“No, professor, I understand the material,” he laughed. Hermione looked down suddenly, nodding. Draco felt a pang of remorse as he realized she’d only wanted to keep talking to him.

“Er, Pansy really had twins?”

Hermione smiled at him and nodded enthusiastically this time. She set her parchments aside and moved closer to him.

“Rowan and Rosemary,” she confirmed. Draco rolled his eyes, and Hermione burst out laughing, quickly covering her mouth when Narcissa stirred a bit. Draco smirked at her.

“Plant names are a bit…”

“Says the man who was insistent that your kids have celestial-related names.”

“Well, the Malfoy names are all Latin which can be stuffy and dated,” he defended. Hermione hummed, her lips pressed tightly to contain her laughter.

“You Purebloods are obsessed with tradition,” she finally said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Does that bother you? Do Pureblood habits bother you?” he clarified at the sight of confusion in her eyes.

Hermione’s face scrunched in contemplation. “It never bothered me per se, so much as it was disconcerting to see the lengths Pansy and Blaise would go to keep traditions going, even if in modern times, these actions were completely useless or irrelevant,” she answered.

Draco wondered what Pureblood traditions outside of naming he kept that confused her. He attempted to nod nonchalantly, both because he wanted to stop talking about this and because her opinion shouldn’t have mattered anyway.

Hermione saw through him and rested her hand on his arm.

“I knew what I was marrying into,” she said. “I’ve no regrets.”

Draco smiled widely. Hermione returned his smile twofold.

_She really is beautiful,_ he thought. _Stunning, even. How did I never notice before?_

A nurse broke the moment to take them to see Healer Finley. The analysis was done.

…

The first thing Hermione did when they arrived at Healer Finley’s office was thank her for being so prompt, being that she still had five hours until her deadline. Healer Finley grimaced, proclaiming it was her pleasure. Hermione and Draco exchanged a glance at that and both sat a bit straighter.

“After analyzing the blood samples of Healer Malfoy from before his coma, during, and now after, we’ve determined that there was some sort of mind-altering substance administered to Healer Malfoy,” Healer Finley informed them, passing them both parchments with the samples broken down to their plasma compositions. There was an unidentifiable substance mixing with his blood while he was in his coma that had been absorbed now that he was awake.

“Have you been able to identify what time this substance entered my body?” Draco questioned.

“Unfortunately,” Healer Finley sighed. “We need to know everything you ate and drank the week you fell into the coma to tell you that. You’ve no recollection at all?”

“Before I woke up, it was August 14, 2007,” Draco responded. Healer Finley frowned and pulled out his chart, hastily writing more to it.

“Are you using his amnesia to determine the potion mind-altering? And what does ‘mind-altering’ mean exactly? Is Draco affected in other ways?” Hermione questioned next.

“Healer Malfoy would have to be checked out by Mind Healers for me to really say but—”

“What _can_ you tell me at the present time?” Hermione interrupted, her voice steadily getting louder. “What is your job right now? To tell me theories about my husband’s condition or to fuckiNG FIX IT?”

Healer Finley shot out of her seat, slamming her hands on her desk. Hermione stood up, matching the glare Healer Finley was sending her. Draco stood up as well but too fast for his body to handle. He swayed on his feet, and Hermione was immediately by his side, clenching his arms tightly.

“Can you give us a moment, Healer Finley?” His eyes implored her to give him time alone with Hermione, otherwise there could be a duel in the office. She nodded curtly and swished her robes around her as she walked out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

“Numpty bitch,” Hermione muttered.

“Hermione!” Draco laughed. “It hasn’t even been a day! The fact that she has what she has is incredible.”

“She should’ve had you checked by Mind Healers the second we knew you were missing your memories! I should’ve told her, ugh!”

 “Again, it hasn’t even been a day. You pressured her into giving you something and this is what she has. Believe me, it’ll help the mind healers when they examine me.”

Hermione pouted up at him, her lower lip trembling.

“I’m worried this could be worse than we thought,” she admitted tearfully.

“Worse than me already forgetting six years of my life?” he asked, amused.

She looked down, removing her hands from his arm to cover her mouth as she started to cry.

“Hey, hey, wait now. Progress has been made and more progress will be made tomorrow. I wasn’t going to be healed in a day.” He let his hands tangle into her curls, scraping his stubby fingers against her scalp in the way he knew would soothe her. He lightly pulled on her hair as he leaned his head down to rest his forehead against hers. “Can we be calm now?”

**CANWEBECALMNOWC A N W E B E C A L M N O WCANWEBECALMNOWC A N W E B E C A L M N O WCANWEBECALMNOWC A N W E B E C A L M N  
**

It echoed loudly in his head, someone was shouting the words at him. He felt his lungs constrict painfully and his heart started pounding wildly. He felt dizzy, he was falling from the Astronomy Tower just like his nightmares.

Then, his vision filled with a soft glow, zooming into a specific corner of his mind and stopping abruptly.

_He opened the bedroom door to find Hermione sobbing at her vanity, her head buried in her arms. She was wearing his black and silver silk robe and the fuzzy otter slippers Scorpius had gotten for her birthday last year, her comfort outfit of late. Nell had been right to ask him to come home for a minute._

_“Hermione?” he called as he knocked on the doorframe. “Love?”_

_Her crying stopped. She lifted her head instantly and looked at him through the mirror. Her face brightened and then fell into its original despair as quickly as it had brightened. Draco would’ve laughed if he wasn’t focused on figuring out what was distressing her._

_“Love, what’s going on?” he asked as he walked into the room._

_“No! I don’t want to talk to you!” she declared._

_“Why not? I’m your sweet honey, you love talking to me.”_

_“Because sometimes you can be so mean,” Hermione started to cry again. “You shot down every one of the names I suggested for Rigel and while I love him and his name, it wasn’t fair! These are my kids too! I should be able to choose.” She hugged tightly the evidence of their soon-to-be born baby, resting her head against it._

_Draco couldn’t resist breaking out into a smile._

_“You are completely right,” he agreed. He stood in front of her and offered to help her stand too. She glared at his hands for a moment before begrudgingly accepting them. He rubbed her hands soothingly and brought them up to his lips. He looked up at her from underneath his eyelashes. He watched her visibly soften. Progress._

_“I should’ve been more open to the names you suggested,” he continued. She nodded and hummed in agreement._

_“It made me feel like…like it was just the beginning of you disregarding me when it came to the kids, especially since it was going to be my first time starting from the beginning,” she confessed, tears strolling down her face._

_Draco sobered. He hadn’t thought of that when he’d laughed at, teased, and dismissed the names she had suggested for Rigel._

_“That wasn’t my intention at all, love. You know I can be a bit of a snob.”_

_“A bit?”_

_“A lot of a snob,” he amended. She chuckled, and he kissed her hands. “But I never meant for you to feel like I was cutting you out of parenting Rigel. I’m sorry that I did that, that something I did made you feel like less of my wife and partner.”_

_“Thank you,” she sniffled._

_“I hope that if I ever do something like that again in the future, you’ll tell me. Please do,” he said softly. She nodded. He kissed her lips lightly and smiled at the way she followed after him when he pulled away. “So, I assume you have a name you really like?”_

_Hermione nodded again. “But you’re going to hate it!” she wailed._

_“No, I won’t.”_

_“Right, actually, you won’t because you named Rigel. I get to name our daughter and there’s nothing you can say about it,” Hermione spat. Her sudden ferocity startled Draco at first but he simply smiled and nodded. “Her name will be Minerva Morgana because I want her to be named after two of the most powerful, influential witches I know and I want her to know that she can be just as powerful and influential, without a man to guide or help her because she is enough by herself and you always act like you don’t care but I know Professor McGonagall meant a lot to you after you got out of Azkaban plus it’s Latin and kinda related to stars and planets so it’s the perfect Black-Malfoy name and I really want you to love it because I love it so much and—”_

_“I love it. Minerva Morgana it is.”_

_“Yeah?” She pouted up at him, her lower lip trembling._

_“Yeah.”_

_He let his hands tangle in her curls, scraping his stubby fingers against her scalp in the way he knew would soothe her. He lightly pulled on her hair as he leaned his head down to rest his forehead against hers._

_“Can we be calm now?”_

**CANWEBECALMNOWC A N W E B E C A L M N O WCANWEBECALMNOWC A N W E B E C A L M N O WCANWEBECALMNOWC A N W E B E C A L M N**

He blinked. Hermione looked at him curiously, nuzzling into him unconsciously.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“We have a daughter named Minerva?”

“Mmhmm, what about her?”

“I-I think I just remembered something about her,” Draco stammered out.

Hermione froze. She slowly leaned out of his hold and stared at him with widened eyes. His hands fell to his sides.

“What did you remember?”

“You were upset about,” he paused to think what he’d seen but it was starting to fade from his mind. “You were upset. You were crying, hysterically crying really.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you didn’t read her page?”

“No,” Draco shook his head. “I haven’t read much on anyone, but I avoided the blue ones,” he admitted shyly.

She still looked doubtful. He sighed.

“I didn’t even know her name before, I only knew about Calloway and barely at that,” he stated.

“Can you tell me more about the moment?”

“It’s hard, I can’t seem to recall it anymore, but it was just here, in my head,” he banged his hand against a few times before Hermione pulled his hand away, shocked. There was a flash of color in his mind and he jumped slightly. “Oh! You were in what I assume was our room. In a black and silver robe and fuzzy—”

“Otter slippers,” she finished, her mouth popping open.

“Otter slippers,” he confirmed.

…

Two days later, Draco still hadn’t been able to see a Mind Healer.

He was pretty sure Hermione was ready to call Harry Potter and have him make demands since no one was listening to her anymore. She’d almost physically climbed over the desk when Healer Finley hadn’t been able to offer any knowledge of how Draco had been able to remember that moment. Draco had asked that they go through him first for his remaining time at St. Mungo’s.

He probably should’ve been more concerned, but he worked at St. Mungo’s, he knew the hospital was lucky enough to have five Mind Healers as the discipline was hard, rigorous, and unrewarding. If you wanted to be able to help someone, you didn’t become a Mind Healer.

He also had his own theory about the memory but would need it to happen a few more times before he was sure. Lucky for him, it was two days later that it happened again.

Pansy came with Hermione in the afternoon to visit. Draco was shocked to see deep red, waist length hair spouting from the top of her head. For as long as he’d known her, she’d hated hair longer than her jawline. This had not been in her entry.

He refrained from talking about it as he was sure there were other things on her mind.

“So what’s amnesia like?” were the first words out of her mouth as she hopped into the seat beside his bed. Hermione shook her head, chuckling. Draco smiled.

“It’s okay,” he shrugged. “Confusing.”

“I can imagine. Your coma was really scary though, so I accept this version of you as long as you don’t do that ever again.” Her blue eyes pierced into him and he nodded.

He suddenly thought of Theo, who he hadn’t had time to think of yet, and how Theo had been released from the hospital, only to collapse later that same day. He was in a coma for four days before his organs started failing on their own.  

“Deal,” Draco promised. He glanced at Hermione, (who had claimed the chair on his left as her unofficial domain with her clothes, work, and pillows surrounding the chair,) noticing the way she obviously avoided his direction. He wanted to reach out to her. He blamed that damn memory from the other day and the muscle memory of knowing how to comfort her. He did nothing.

He looked back at Pansy to find her watching him with her annoying smirk covering the lower half of her face. He rolled his eyes and sat up straighter.

“Anyway, your wifey told me about the reference book she made you. Any questions on my part?” Her voice raised at the end of her sentence. Hermione had told her about him ridiculing her kids’ names.

“None,” he answered, smirking back at her. She pinched his arm. He swatted her away. Hermione giggled quietly beside them. “I will say I am shocked that Blaise got married to someone OTHER than Daphne.”

Pansy let out a full belly laugh.

“We all were, including Daphne,” She paused, frowning. “Aww, I feel bad. I shouldn’t have laughed. She’s really sad.”

Draco made no comment, not sure what he could add to that assessment. She wasn’t wrong.

“Draco,” Hermione tugged on his hospital robe to get his attention. “Has anyone been in contact with you about the Mind Healers?”

He shook his head. “I imagine I’ll hear something by the end of this week.” Hermione huffed, and he hurried to continue to prevent her from searching for one of them and threatening them until they examined him.

Hogwarts him would’ve relished in the chaos and intimidation but there were protocols to follow. He was touched that Hermione seemed ready to use violence to help him. He couldn’t offer her the same, and she knew that. She did all of this anyway.

“Mind Healers usually stick to their individual projects and research for the first half of the week and then help on the main floors for the second half. No one usually needs them though and their research is too important for them to waste time on anybody else. If it’s an emergency, they’ll disregard their projects.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak. Draco cut her off.

“I am not an emergency. I am an interesting, high-profile case. I will probably see them at the end of this week. They’ll fight over me, if that makes you feel better.”

“I guess,” she sighed.

Pansy chortled beside them. “You guys never change,” she commented.

“You do,” he countered. “I was trying to keep silent but what is this hair? Who are you?”

“I knew this was gonna happen,” she groaned. “Go on then, what else you got?”

“The length in itself is bizarre but red? Why not just go for those ridiculous pastels that all kids right out of Hogwarts love so much?”

“You’re one to talk with your unnatural white blonde hair that you’ve passed down to every one of your kids,” Pansy scoffed. “Red is broom speeds ahead of the travesty on your head! It’s albino appropriation is what it is.”

Draco glared. Hermione muffled her laughter. Pansy smiled at him triumphantly.

“It doesn’t matter what you think, anyway. My wife loves it.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “Wife? As in the person you got drunk with, cast a dodgy spell with, and got pregnant by like some character from a trashy wizard romance novel?”

Pansy gasped, her eyes widening. She looked at Hermione accusingly.

“I thought you didn’t write it!”

“I didn’t!”

“My memory starts, or ends-however you want to phrase it, from the day you told Theo about that whole fiasco,” Draco stated, enjoying the panic on Pansy’s face. “Judging by your face, this person could only be a Hufflepuff or from the Spanish pureblood circle since I hate them or an American or—" he gasped.

“What?”

“Did you steal Weaslette from Potter?!” he exclaimed, his hands covering his gaping mouth. Pansy hit his arm, laughing.

“She may be living the trashy wizard romance novel but it’s obvious you wrote it,” Hermione joked.

They both laughed at his expense. He tried not to pout but his brow was already furrowed and his bottom lip already protruding without his knowing. They laughed even harder, pointing at his face. Pansy fell out of her chair, clutching her stomach.

“I’m glad you guys are enjoying yourselves,” he muttered.

“Aww, sweets,” Draco grimaced at her words instinctively. He’d never been a fan of pet names outside of his mother’s ‘darling’s and ‘dear’s. She stopped and seemed to close in on herself. “Sorry.”

He waved away her apology. He’d rather just move on.

“Before I forget, it’s Rigel’s birthday on the 25th,” Hermione said.

“And Rigel is our son?” he asked. She bit her lip and nodded. He waited for her to say more, but she only stared at him. He blinked. “Alright then.”

“He wants to see you and I was wondering if that’d be okay?” She started fiddling with her hands. “He’s turning three so it’s been hard to explain what’s happening but I’m trying to keep the kids away while you deal with…all of this.”

“Thank you for that. I would like to see Scorpius though,” he told her.

“Noted.”

“Now that that’s sorted,” Pansy’s sudden and loud voice made Draco jump. She was already back in her seat and was eagerly holding out a small black bag to him. “I may have said some mean things about your hair, but it did remain gorgeous throughout your coma. And it needed a cut before the coma, but you refused. You won’t refuse now, will you?”

“You’re taking advantage of my lost memories and I’m proud of the Slytherin you still can be despite whatever affiliations you have now,” was his response.

Pansy huffed. “I swear you are the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.” She handed him a hand-held mirror from the bag. “First, you get to see the before.”

He looked at his face for the first time since he woke up from the coma. He audibly gasped. Outside of the spouting of wrinkles at the side of his eyes and frown lines marring his aristocratic forehead, he was disturbed by how much he looked like his father. The shoulder length hair wasn’t helping.

He immediately looked straight at Hermione. She leaned back at the intensity in his eyes.

“I look just like Lucius. How do you handle this?” he asked, bewildered.

Her eyes softened.

“I only see you.”

**IONLYSEEYOUI O N L Y S E E Y O UIONLYSEEYOUI O N L Y S E E Y O UIONLYSEE YOUI O N L Y S E E Y O UIONLYSEEYOUI O N L Y S E E Y O UION  
**

It echoed loudly in his head, someone was shouting the words at him. Louder now than before. He felt his lungs constrict painfully and his heart started pounding wildly. He felt dizzy, he was falling from the Astronomy Tower just like his nightmares, only this time it was never-ending. He never hit the floor. 

Then, his vision filled with a soft glow, zooming into a specific corner of his mind and stopping abruptly.

_Draco knew he should be listening to her talk, but he couldn’t get his mother’s words out of his head._

_“You look just like your father.”_

_In his elegant, forest green dress robes that he’d worn for his first date with Hermione in public, he did look like a younger version of his father. It had thrown his mother off, scared she had seen a ghost._

_It disturbed him._

_He had spent his youth trying to be a copy of his father. He had treasured their similar looks and followed his father’s teachings blindly. He had almost killed the whole school, a couple people counted twice from events before he had brought Death Eaters into the school._

_He had talked about it in therapy, he knew he couldn’t put all the blame onto his father, but Lucius Malfoy stood as a monument to everything he didn’t want to be anymore. Everything he could never be if he wanted his family to be proud of him._

_“Tell me what’s going on,” Hermione’s voice pierced through his haze. He shook his head and smiled at her. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, and I know this because I just insulted Angeline Belyakova to test you.”_

_He narrowed his eyes. “Angeline Belyakova is the prima ballerina of our time and I will not have her name sullied, even in a joking manner. This is grounds for us to end everything right here.”_

_“There you are,” she chuckled, reaching her hand across the table for him. He met her halfway and entwined their hands together. “Is everything alright? Is it all the staring?”_

_He blinked at her, confused. She subtly nodded to the side, and he looked over to find half of the restaurant trying to take good pictures in the dim lighting and the other half whispering and pointing. He smirked and looked back at her._

_Hermione had been experimenting with straightening her hair lately and she claimed she had just so happened to find a good hair salon in time for the date, but Draco was convinced she’d done it for the inevitable pictures to circulate the wizarding world. Her hair was wavy and in a side part with a glittery hair clip keeping everything in place. She wore red and gold dress robes (they’d decided to wear their house colors, just to give the people more fodder,) that hugged her body in a way he’d only see Muggle clothing do. He was looking forward to going back to her place and peeling it off her slowly enough that she begged. His mouth dried out as he thought back to other times he had gotten her to beg for him._

_“I only see you,” he said, licking his lips. He lifted her hand and kissed it gently. There were loud sighs and a few claps in response. Hermione giggled and looked down, pulling her hand back quickly._

_“So if it’s not here that’s bothering you, what is?”_

_Draco’s face scrunched in annoyance._

_“Please,” she pouted. He sighed, dropping his head down a fraction. When he looked up again, her eyes shone triumphantly._

_“When I was leaving today, my mother made a comment about how I look like my father,” he revealed. She nodded, waiting for more. “She jumped and almost screamed because she thought she’d seen his ghost.”_

_“That’s intense.”_

_“Yeah,” he shrugged._

_“What are you upset about exactly? You know you’ve looked like him your entire life, right?”_

_“Yes, but before that was something great, something admirable. Now…”_

_“Now, you don’t want to be associated with him,” she finished for him. He nodded, his lips dipping into a frown._

_“I don’t want him and his legacy around me or Scorpius or…you,” he conceded. He looked down, scared to see what her reaction was. “I mean, how do you stand being with me when I look like him? He’s everything you hate and he attacked you, on more than one occasion if I remember correctly.”_

_Draco heard her shift in her seat and stand up. His heart began to pound as he started to panic. This was it for them, then._

_It wasn’t._

_She sat beside him and lifted his head to make sure he could see the warmth in her eyes. She kissed him, peeking her tongue into his mouth and wrapping her arms around him. He returned her embrace and held her tightly, his hands curling into her clothes. The people of the restaurant were going wild._

_She pulled away suddenly, and Draco groaned, clutching her to him. He attempted to smooth out the smudged lipstick surrounding her lips, both to make her look more decent and to calm himself down as smudged make-up was a huge turn-on for him._

_Hermione laughed._

_“How do I stand being with you, you asked? Draco, I only see you,” she repeated his words back to him._

**IONLYSEEYOUI O N L Y S E E Y O UIONLYSEEYOUI O N L Y S E E Y O UIONLYSEE YOUI O N L Y S E E Y O UIONLYSEEYOUI O N L Y S E E Y O UION  
**

There was a pounding in his head that wouldn’t stop. It felt like a beater’s bat and a bludger were attacking him together. He leaned his head back, straining not to scream from the force of the pain but it was getting harder the longer it lasted. He remembered to breathe, thinking of all the times he’d been put under the Cruciatus Curse and he had to remember to breathe. Besides the actual injuries, most torture victims died from asphyxiation, from bearing the pain without taking the chance to breathe.

He could vaguely hear Pansy and Hermione screaming and asking if he was alright. It was too much effort to try to discern just how to explain what was happening. The pain from his head was slowly moving down his body, spreading like Fiendfyre.

Draco couldn’t hold it in, any longer. He bellowed, his body twisting from side to side as he tried to hit the pain out of himself.

“PANSY, GET SOMEONE, PLEASE!” He heard Hermione scream. She was crying.

He opened his eyes, unsure how to calm her but feeling like he needed to. He turned his head to see her but he didn’t see her. He saw straight hair and smudged lipstick and warm eyes. She reached out to him and he jolted backwards.

“Don’t touch me!” he screamed. The warm eyes became confused and hurt but they couldn’t be in as much pain as he was in, pain that was increasing the longer she looked at him. He pushed her away from his bedside, still screaming in pain.

“Go away,” he growled. He saw her, the Hermione he had been expecting for only a second before he slumped into his bed, his vision black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it???? Live up to its start?
> 
> If you were stunned by the length of this chapter, imagine how I felt when I started at 10 pm and the word count never seemed to slow. And this is after I already split the chapter in two because it was going on too long! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! New chapter to come much sooner than the time between the first and second but deadlines stress me out so let's keep it a surprise for now. Reviews are always welcome! I'd love to hear you guys' theories on what is happening. 
> 
> Hwata Out-A (I am cackling, I'm hilarious) 
> 
> P.S. This is not the final look(?) of the chapter, I just don't have the patience to code the correct fonts and effects but look out for the day I am.


	3. Long Trudge Back

As Draco’s eyes slowly curled open, a rush of movement caught his attention. He looked over to find his mother with reddened eyes and a silk handkerchief pressed to her mouth to muffle her cries.

 

“I’m okay,” he croaked. He coughed, and his mother hurried to hand him a glass of water. He sipped greedily, relaxing as it soothed his throat. He was too relaxed; however, he was ready to go back to sleep.

 

“What happened?”

 

“What do you remember?” Narcissa questioned him.

 

He sighed, sifting through his mind.

 

“I know I am losing six years’ worth of memories,” he began. “I’m married to Hermione Granger now…I have a daughter named Minerva and a son named Rigel, his birthday is soon…there’s another kid at Hogwarts already…Pansy was here and then I…”

 

He tried to remember what exactly what happened and sharp pain pulsed through his head. He winced.

 

“That’s good, that’s good enough,” Narcissa rushed out, caressing the side of his face. He nodded.

 

“Where’s Hermione?” he wondered. He noticed she wasn’t in the room and there had been few moments where Hermione was not at his bedside. “She was here too, I remember that.”

 

“She’s resting.” His mother kept her hand on him as she sat down. She sat at the right of him always, just as Hermione always sat to the left of him. “She had to be sedated.”

 

Draco raised his eyebrows, and his mother sighed.

 

“You were speaking with Pansy and Hermione when all of a sudden, you started convulsing in pain. You passed out for a few minutes but when you woke up, you started having a seizure. Anyone that touched you was blown backwards. Hermione got a bit hysterical and had to be dragged out of the room and sedated. She thought you were dying,” Narcissa burst into tears. Draco attempted to sit up, but he was too weak.

 

“I’m not dead, Mother,” he reassured her.

 

“Not yet,” she cried. “You could be dying. The Healers know nothing. How can they be so educated and know nothing???”

 

Draco chuckled weakly.

 

“You’re talking about me too, you realize?”

 

“That’s different,” Narcissa scoffed exasperatedly. “You can’t Heal yourself. If you could, I am confident that we’d know what was wrong with you and how something like that could happen to you.”

 

Draco blew out a long breath. “I don’t know if I warrant that much confidence.”

 

“I’m your mother, I do know,” she stated firmly. It was the end of the topic. “I’m going to get the Healers. They wanted to be notified as soon as you woke up.”

 

“Mother,” he called to her before she had fully exited the room. She twisted her head back so quickly that her headscarf inched back, revealing tufts of dark brown and gray hair. “Make sure to tell Hermione that I’m okay.”

 

She nodded, smiling softly.

 

Not long after his mother left, Healer Finley appeared, purposefully leading two Mind Healers, distinguishable by the periwinkle robes they wore.

 

“Two Mind Healers?” Draco commented as they settled by his bedside. “I guess my condition is worse than we thought.”

 

“To be quite frank, Healer Malfoy, your condition was hardly a thought before yesterday,” one of the Mind Healers spoke in a whispered, light tone that reminded him of that crazy Ravenclaw that had ended up in the Manor’s dungeons. “The amount of memories you were missing was astounding but my colleague had already thought of a possible solution.”

 

Draco turned to look at the colleague. They had long, wavy black hair pulled back into a bun and a soft curved face but the strong, stubbled jawline of a male Veela. H wasn’t sure what gender they were, but he recognized the hesitance in their stance, and his ears tingled. It was the same hesitance he had had when he first started at St. Mungo’s and was treated like a physical reminder of the War. It had taken almost two years for anyone to treat him kindly.

 

The other Mind Healer began to speak again. Draco cut her off.

 

“Let your colleague explain their theory. It was their idea after all.” Draco ignored the stammers of the other Healer and waited. Healer Finley gestured for the colleague to speak.

 

They cleared their throat before beginning to speak in a low tone. “After a careful analysis of your brain scan and the reports made by Healer Finley and her team, it seems nothing besides the temporal lobe was affected by the substance that removed your memories. In fact, your wife,” the healer paused, squeezing their eyes shut and curling their hands into fists. Their voice got softer.

 

“Er, well, she explained that you recalled a memory the other day, but you also did a gesture that calms her, something you wouldn’t know from where your current memory holds, so you still have muscle and somewhat of an emotional memory. And the word ‘removed’ is actually wrong because if you could remember even a snippet, it means that the memories are still there, just blocked from willful recall. We’re still unclear as to how you recalled that memory, but I had hoped to see if we could do it again while monitoring how your brain is reacting. It would give us a better idea as to what the substance did exactly.”

 

Draco nodded thoughtfully. “That seems credible.”

 

“The only issue now,” the Mind Healer continued. “is that we have no idea what caused your strong and violent reaction a few days ago. It could be a memory, it could be a problem not indicated in your scans, or it could be something completely unrelated to your current amnesiac state. Mrs. Malfoy did confide that you seemed in pain as you remembered the incident, so I want to try my method on this memory. We may learn what is causing you pain and what the catalyst was for the pain.”

 

He turned to the other healer. “So why are you here?”

 

The woman was taken aback. She straightened her posture and lifted her chin at him.

 

“I’m here to assist Healer Hashemi if you okay the procedure,” she responded. “I’ve also been delegated lead Healer.”

 

“That’s unfortunate because I’ve just delegated Healer Hashemi as my lead Healer,” Draco countered, using what little strength he had to sneer at the woman. He’d met and been usurped by people like her before, one of them being bloody Turner, and he wasn’t going to watch it happen to someone else. Not when they were the one truly helping him.

 

The woman, Norwood was the name Healer Finley used as she tried to placate her, glared at Draco intensely.

 

“What is the procedure exactly?” he asked, ignoring Healer Norwood.

 

“We’re going to numb your body so that pain signals have no results but are still sent out, therefore we can see what exactly causes pain,” Healer Hashemi’s voice was more forward and commanding. Draco gave a soft grin. “There will be a third healer who is in charge of making sure your body isn’t disturbed by this numbing while Healer Norwood monitors and records your brain functions outside of memory, which is my domain.”

Draco’s grin fell off. “That’s a lot of meddling into my mind. Is that safe?”

 

“I understand your worry,” Healer Finley responded. “The mind is so delicate, we generally refrain from using magic on it. It’s also only right that you know that this is something we’ve never done before. However, given the uniqueness and mystery behind your current condition, I strongly believe that we need to start thinking and acting in new ways. It may seem very scary, but I ask that you trust us to take care of you. You are also a Healer, you know what it means to be on the other side of this bed.”

 

“Have you talked to my…family?” he questioned.

 

“Your mother, yes. It’s only been a couple days since the incident, so we haven’t been able to reach Mrs. Malfoy-Granger yet. We’ve all agreed that time is of the essence. Therefore, I don’t think we can wait for her.”

 

Draco nodded in understanding. He rubbed his hands together. He felt a bit guilty at not consulting or even telling Hermione, but his condition was serious. She would probably rest better as well without having to worry about the procedure. It was better for them both, he had convinced himself.

 

“Let’s do it then,” he said. Healer Hashemi and Healer Norwood exited to get the Mind Lab prepared for the procedure while Healer Finley and a nurse he had nicknamed ‘Mémé Freckles’ (since she refused to tell him her name on the principle that nurses used be nameless and she was sticking to that,) prepped him for it. 

 

Healer Finley tapped his bed three times with her wand and it began to hover and float out of his room. She was guiding it to the elevator when three figures appeared from the nearest stairwell. Hermione and his mother stood with what Draco knew had to be a nine-year-old Scorpius.

 

He was thin, his face reflecting the Malfoy sharp bones that hadn’t been apparent when he was a toddler. His hair fell to his shoulders, the ends in wide curls. Draco was thinking how Scorpius was going to be tall like him since he already reached Hermione’s shoulder when Scorpius launched himself onto the floating bed.

 

Draco struggled to sit up smoothly. Mémé Freckles helped him just as Scorpius lightly hugged Draco around his torso. Draco hugged him back, snuggling against the crown of his head. He smelled differently from what he remembered but he felt exactly the same as the three-year-old Draco remembered.

 

Draco gave him a small kiss on his crown. Scorpius burst into tears.

 

“This isn’t because you’re sad again, is it?” Scorpius blubbered into the hospital gown. Draco shook his head, gripping Scorpius tighter. “Do you promise? Mummy says something’s wrong with your memory. What if you were so sad that you tried to forget everything?”

 

“That’s not what happened,” he said as he contemplated whether it was. Draco knew nothing of his life right before his memory was lost. Nothing from the little he’d read made him believe he was unhappy but maybe Hermione didn’t know. What if he had done it to himself?

 

“We should continue into the procedure,” Healer Finley said from beside him. “Your son can wait here for you to come back.”

 

“What procedure?” Hermione croaked in confusion. Her throat hadn’t healed completely yet.

 

Before anyone else could respond, he looked at her, shaking his head.

 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he lied. “Just checking me out.” She gave no sign that she heard him, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes.

 

“Scorpius, your Papa will be back. Come down,” Hermione moved forward to help him down after she spoke. Scorpius snuggled closer, his cries getting more audible.

 

“I love you, my darling boy,” Draco whispered to him. “I’ll be back.”

 

“You’ll come right back?”

 

“Immediately after.”

 

“And you’re not sad?”

 

“No.”

 

“You promise?”

 

“I do.” Draco lifted Scorpius from him so that he could watch him cross his heart. Scorpius nodded in concession. He let go of Draco and carefully stepped off the bed. He instantly walked into Hermione’s arms, crying profusely.

 

Draco watched her hug and talk softly to his son as he continued to the Mind Lab.

 

…

 

The Mind Lab was sparkling. Draco felt like a first year arriving at the Great Hall for the first time with how much he was staring up in awe. There was a golden hue in the atmosphere as if he was wearing gold-lensed glasses.

 

“This room is filled to the brim with magic,” Draco stated mindlessly.

 

“We need all the help we can get to be successful,” Healer Hashemi replied.

 

He was moved onto a soft chaise. A healer sat to his right, checking his vitals before they started to make sure they had an accurate baseline. Healer Norwood stood to his left, poised to begin monitoring the functions of his brain. Healer Hashemi took their spot directly behind him.

 

“This process may put you into a dream-like state so, to limit the stimuli, we are going to charm your eyes closed for the duration of the procedure. Is that okay?”

 

“Yes.” Draco had already decided to go through with this, he couldn’t back out now.

 

The healer to his left made a circular motion with their wand as they said, “Oculi Occludo.” His eyelids shut of their own accord.

 

“We’re going to start now,” Healer Hashemi let him know. He nodded in response. A wand ran from his hairline to the nape of his neck, a cool sensation rushing through his body as if cold water had been poured on the top of his head. His breathing slowed a tic.

 

“If you can hear me, say ‘Beetle Bard is a fraud’,” Healer Hashemi instructed. Draco repeated the sentence, wanting to laugh but finding himself unable to. He tried to shift uncomfortably but he also couldn’t do that.

 

“He’s starting to panic,” the side healer said.

 

“Everything is okay, Draco,” Healer Hashemi said. “Remember that your body has been numbed so you won’t be able to do anything but speak and breathe.”

 

The other healer guided his breathing in a calm voice. A few minutes later, he was ready for the procedure again.

 

“We’re going to start with some simple questions to ease your mind into the memory. What is your name?” Healer Hashemi started.

 

“Draco Malfoy.”

 

“When were you born?”

 

“June 5, 1980.”

 

“What house were you sorted in at Hogwarts? Why?”

 

“I was sorted into Slytherin and I used to think it was because of my blood status and lineage. It was probably because I’m loyal and resourceful and goal-oriented while also having some ambitious goals. I’m clever and sly as well.”

 

“Tell me a favorite childhood memory.”

 

“My father had gotten me a toy broom when I was seven and started teaching me to play Quidditch. Then he had a meeting at the Spanish Ministry and couldn’t teach me for the next week. My mother saw how upset I was and took over as my teacher. I didn’t even know she could fly and she was brilliant! As a teacher and a flyer. She knew when to push me, when to encourage me as opposed to my father who just voiced his disappointment if I failed to reach his expectations. I started to love the game and my mother more, it was an incredible week. When he got back, I asked to have my mother teach me from now on, but she deferred to my father who wanted to be in charge. I always look fondly at that week.”

 

“You were friends with Pansy Parkinson as a child. When was the last time you saw her?”

 

“I’m not sure. Time is weird in St. Mungo’s and I was in a coma, twice now I think.”

 

“What happened the last time you saw her?”

 

“We talked. She went through with the pregnancy and I think married the person involved. Hermione was there,” Draco added, feeling a confusing mixture of dread and calm overwhelm him as he remembered her laughs and smiles. “Pansy, her, and I must be around each other a lot, they were both so at ease with each other in a way I’ve never seen before. Pansy wanted to cut my hair and she showed me what it looked like. I look like my father. I asked Hermione how she dealt with that; my father attacked her and was loyal to Voldemort until the end.”

 

“What did Hermione say?”

 

“She said she only sees me.” He hadn’t thought about her response since he’d been preoccupied with having seizures and blacking out, so he started to think about it. Her response told him how they’d managed to get together in the first place: the past didn’t factor in where it didn’t need to. His father being dead and however they had talked during those Hogwarts sessions probably made things easier.

 

He thought about how confidently she’d said it, as if there was no one else to see in him. He got a flash of long hair with a red clip and slightly smudged lipstick on his favorite pair of lips.

 

“His brain is sending out strong reactions. His pulse is increasing,” the third healer warned.

 

“What were her exact words?” Healer Hashemi asked.

 

“I only see you.”

 

“His pulse is only increasing. This is done.”

 

…

 

Draco looked at the clothes Hermione had stored for him.

 

_Which best makes me look like I remember being this kid’s father?_ He shuffled through the robes, completely ignoring the muggle clothing simply because it would be too unfamiliar for himself. His goal in this day with Rigel Theodore Malfoy was to create a calm and loving atmosphere, which couldn’t be done if he himself felt uncomfortable. The boy was only turning three, but he would be able to pick up on anything unusual.

 

“I probably should’ve said no when she asked again,” Draco muttered to himself as he mentally debated between the soft green robe or the sleek blue one. Hermione had sent a note with Narcissa the day before asking if Draco was still okay seeing Rigel, especially with the knowledge that he could have an episode. Anyone from his most recent past was strongly suggested to give him space while the Healers looked into what his mind tests would say. He’d seen Scorpius a couple of times but only for a short period of time to be careful. However, Draco hadn’t had a second thought about disappointing a child and had said yes.

 

He closed his eyes and shook his hand into the pile of clothes, grabbing onto a random piece of fabric. He pulled out a gray and navy robe. He frowned. It felt too somber. He looked back down to the pile of clothes and found his eyes coming back to the sleek blue one again and again. Draco decided on that one, mostly just to make the decision.

 

He stepped out of the depressing patient robes and into the blue one. In his new room, he had access to a full-length mirror. He pulled and adjusted his robe as he saw fit, noticing it felt a bit loose. His appetite wasn’t the best, but he couldn’t believe he had lost weight already. He’d asked his mother to cut his hair the day before because the length was annoying without the constant ghost of his father to look at in the mirror. His hair was layered now, the front going to the bottom of his brow and the back going to the nape of his neck. He had complimented his mom on maintaining his handsomeness.

 

“I kept Hermione in mind as I’m sure you did too,” she retorted in a light voice he knew meant she was teasing him. He narrowed his eyes briefly and refused to respond.

 

He hadn’t seen Hermione since their brief eye-contact before his mind procedure. They hadn’t spoken since his episode. If he was being truthful, he was also worried about seeing her again. He hadn’t continued contemplating Hermione much outside of recognizing her love and devotion to him.

 

Draco was attracted to Hermione. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to her for most of the time he knew her; her blood was the obstacle before, and his previous prejudices and Death Eater-ness was his main obstacle now. It felt unbelievable that he had found love after the wreckage left by Astoria but with Hermione Granger?? Yet, when she looked at him the way she did, he found himself wanting her love.

 

He shook himself out of his thoughts and recited a spell to put his clothes back to their original places. He was walking to the side table by the windows (magicked to be a view of the most comforting place for the patient; for Draco it was the garden outside of his townhouse in the city,) when there was a knock on the doorframe. He turned suddenly, not expecting Rigel and Hermione for another hour. Daphne Greengrass stood in the doorway, light brown hair curling into a short bob and clear blue eyes shining with hope.

 

She strode towards him with a wide smile on her face. It drew his focus to her scar which looked like it had been irritated in the last few hours. Daphne stopped directly in front of him. She took a deep breath.

 

“You’re okay,” her voice oozed relief. He nodded. “I’m so glad.”

 

“I’m not allowed visitors outside of family anymore. How did you get here?” he questioned. Her smile faltered a bit. She laughed to cover it and shook her head.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” she answered, sitting down at the table. He sat across from her, watching her carefully and mumbling a quick apology for not having any refreshments to offer her.

 

“A bribe then. Why are you here?”

 

“Am I not allowed to check in on you? Pansy said you had amnesia. From when do you remember?”

 

“The last time I saw you, you pleaded for me to write to Astoria,” he told her. She nodded as her eyes peered up for a second. “Seeing as it didn’t work, I’m a bit peeved you pushed me.”

 

“I’d think you wouldn’t care now what with…” She looked at him from behind her eyelashes. He lifted an eyebrow at her and leaned onto the table. _The crush is still there,_ he internally sighed.

 

He patiently waited for her to finish the sentence and admit he was married; she foolishly waited for him to reveal his current feelings about said wife. Neither of them spoke.

 

“Did we become friends?” Draco finally broke the silence, annoyed that he didn’t know what she was visiting for. Daphne’s posture stiffened, and she blinked.

 

“…No one’s talked about me?”

 

Draco tilted his head curiously. Was she important enough to mention? “I’m slowly being told about my life, but the episode has delayed things.”

 

“Episode? What happened?”

 

“We think I can have adverse effects to remembering things and we aren’t sure what yet causes such a reaction. It’s why I’m in this new wing. Pansy didn’t tell you that?”

 

“Pansy and I don’t really talk anymore,” Daphne snarked.

 

“Yet she told you about me? What did you bribe her with?”

 

“With enough.” Daphne shifted her legs in her seat, crossing them and looking away. “I did want to see that you were okay but I also…I want to talk to you.”

 

“About?” he prompted after she let silence hang between them once again.

 

She looked back at him, her lips pursed in determination. “I’m in love with you. I have been since I was sixteen years old and you talked to me about your father. You didn’t talk to anyone like that. I felt special, like a person, not just some idea a boy had of me.”

 

Draco’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember the moment she was talking about. “After I was marked?”

 

Daphne nodded. Draco’s face scrunched further in confusion.

 

“I don’t remember that, Daphne,” he admitted. She frowned slightly.

 

“I guess it doesn’t matter but it happened. I’ve wanted you ever since,” she pressed on. Draco relaxed his face into a neutral, polite disposition. He sat up before he spoke again.

 

“What are your intentions right now? You know I’m married.”

 

“Do you love her? In this moment, right now?” Daphne asked with rushed words. She inched closer to him, reaching her hand out to him. He glanced at her hand, noticing a couple fingers looked crooked. He didn’t want to answer, and he didn’t want to lie. “I can tell you don’t.” His eyes flashed up to meet hers. She smiled at him.

 

“Daphne,” he sighed. He didn’t know where to start with her. He never had.

 

“I watched you fall in love with Hermione Granger, I know what you look like when she owns your heart. You don’t love her right now,” Daphne continued.

 

“Are you hoping that you can get me to fall in love with you instead? There must be something wrong with the Greengrass upbringing if you’re suggesting I break up my family _again_.”

 

“No, Draco, I wouldn’t-I just, I wondered,” she paused, quickly blinking back tears. Daphne had envisioned something very different from what was happening.

 

“Wondered what? If I would cheat on someone I couldn’t remember loving?”

 

“No! I wondered…I asked my mom to arrange our marriage but then the War happened and…” Her gaze became unfocused and her body went unnaturally still. Draco couldn’t tell if she was breathing so he took a light hold of her still outstretched hand. He caressed her hand softly. She blinked back to him. “Astoria was promised instead, and I accepted it. I watched you fall in love with my little sister and I accepted it until I realized she didn’t love you back, no matter how much she pretended.”

 

Draco’s ears tingled but he stayed quiet. She was vulnerable and emotional, so he wouldn’t push now; most importantly, she had gotten him on one of his more understanding days.

 

“After Astoria left, I gave you space while still trying to be there for you and Scorpius, as much as you’d let me anyway. Then Hermione appeared. Before I could even see her as anything more than Pansy’s ex-fuck buddy, you were in love with her and out of my reach once again.”

 

“And I’m not now,” he finished for her. She nodded, smiling hopefully at him. She moved closer again, almost across the table as she leaned towards him. Her hand gripped his desperately.

 

“Was there ever a chance for me? With the you before her, could we…” she trailed off and searched his face.

 

He maintained his neutral expression as he tried to think of a way to let her down nicely.

 

“Papa!” A small, ecstatic voice yelled from the doorway. Draco’s head snapped to the side to see a flash of brown skin and blond hair run towards him. Hermione remained in the doorway, looking ready to vomit.

 

Draco pulled his hand out of Daphne’s grasp and kneeled out of his chair, his arms open just in time to catch the buzzing birthday boy.

 

Rigel leaned out of the embrace and kissed Draco sloppily on his cheek.

 

“Papa, I missed you.” Draco smiled thinly, nodding in response. Rigel stared at him expectantly with Hermione’s eyes. “You’re ‘sposed to ask how much.”

 

“How much did you miss me?” He asked immediately.

 

“A thousand kisses’ worth!” Rigel jumped into his father’s arms again and started kissing him all over his face. Draco laughed, tipping back onto his bum. He held Rigel firmly as Rigel counted each kiss, adorably jumping from ten to three hundred to six hundred and finally to a thousand.

 

Rigel grinned proudly at Draco. Draco couldn’t help but smile proudly back. Pansy had alluded to it before, but it was stunning to see his hair color replicated onto Rigel. The curls were tighter, more like Hermione’s than Scorpius’s but they were smoothed into a single braid that ended at his upper back. His skin was vibrantly brown and warm but lighter than his eyes that reminded him of broomsticks and dark chocolate brownies. His large front teeth and chubby cheeks made Draco think of bunnies he had chased through the Malfoy gardens as a boy. He loved this boy already.

 

“Hi Rigel,” Daphne greeted sweetly. Rigel’s head whipped to the side to follow the voice. With his back taut, he bowed his head gently and smiled without width. Draco’s own smile got wider. His son had manners. “You won’t remember me but I’m your big brother’s aunt, Daphne.”

 

Rigel’s small, plump lips formed a large ‘O’ as a response.

 

“He’s come to visit me for his birthday,” Draco informed Daphne, peering at her meaningfully. It was time for her to leave.

 

“You remembered!” Rigel cheered. “Mummy said you don’t remember things well anymore, but you remembered my birthday!” Draco nodded enthusiastically.

 

“I would never forget your birthday. Brightest star of Orion deserves nothing less,” His words flowed out of him before he could stop himself. He looked to Hermione warily, suddenly aware of how easily he could say the wrong thing. She took a few steps into the room and gestured for him to keep speaking.

 

“I should leave you boys to your birthday fun,” Daphne proclaimed, standing up and turning to face Hermione. Draco watched them curiously while Rigel talked about how happy he was to be away from Minnie’s screams.

 

He didn’t know Hermione’s tells yet, but she still looked sick. Daphne brushed imaginary lint of her robes and rested her hand under her chin. She was haughty.

 

Hermione turned to Draco, who immediately lowered his eyes to Rigel’s blabbering like he had been paying attention the whole time.

 

“Rigel, darling, I think your father hasn’t finished his conversation with Daphne yet. Let’s give them a moment,” Hermione walked past Daphne, reaching out her hand. Draco and Rigel held each other tighter.

 

“We were quite finished,” Draco countered.

 

Daphne didn’t turn back around or say goodbye as she strutted out of the room, her hips swinging dramatically. Hermione watched her do it and grumbled something under her breath. She plopped down onto the chair Daphne had occupied.

 

Rigel, unaware of the current tension because of his focus on his father, and frankly very bored, tugged at his father’s sleeve to get his attention.

 

“That lady left so now we focus on me,” he declared. Draco chuckled. Was he unable to raise a non-precocious child? He looked to Hermione, who was smirking, and thought back to her during first year. Their kids never had a chance.

 

“Good idea. What would you like to do?” Draco questioned, arranging his legs to stand without using his hands as they were occupied by Rigel.

 

“I still don’t know how you do that,” Hermione gasped softly. Draco flashed her a quick wink. Her eyes widened, and she let out a small squeak.

 

_Is that how she acts when she’s embarrassed?_ He added to his mental to-do list to tease her more often.

 

“Lots of practice with Scorpius,” he answered.

 

Rigel pouted. “No, no talk about Scope. Me, me, me!”

 

“I apologize, my dear boy. However, you still haven’t told me what you want to do!”

 

“I want to play Healer and be like you, Papa!” Rigel responded excitedly. “Can we go to your office and play around in there? We do it lots.”

 

“A lot,” Hermione corrected from the side.

 

“A lots,” Rigel rolled his eyes. Draco smiled.

 

“I don’t think we can go to my office today but lucky for you, we are in a hospital room. We can play in here.”

 

Rigel surveyed the room, frowning slightly.

 

“I like playing in your office better,” he pouted.

 

“Rigel, please remember that your Papa is sick,” Hermione lightly reminded him. He looked back at her and nodded.

 

“Yes, Mummy. I guess this is okay,” he amended.

 

“I’m sure we could get some Healer tools for you and you could try to diagnose me!” Draco added to get Rigel excited. Rigel’s eyes brightened.

 

“Isn’t that a fantastic idea!” Hermione commented. She smiled gratefully at Draco. He smiled back.

 

They called a nurse for tools and Rigel took turns being Draco and Hermione’s Healer. They had diseases such as “Sweets Tummy”—which resulted from eating too many sweets from Dora and being sick; “ ‘Motional Madness”—which happened when one didn’t see their Mummy or Papa all day and easily cried or got angry; and the frequent “Hyper-itis”—which was a serious condition in which one was too excited to sit still. Rigel was very serious in his diagnosing and told them different ways to cure their afflictions each time they got them. He also made sure to tell them he was currently researching into “Hyper-itis” and he would let them know of any further treatments he discovered. When Rigel treated Hermione, he sometimes called Draco for a “consulation”.

 

“Consultation,” Hermione corrected.

 

“That’s what I said, Mummy,” he sighed in frustration, rolling his eyes.

 

They played ‘Healer’ for an hour or so before Hermione called Lottie to bring them Rigel’s special birthday lunch. Draco was surprised to find it was sushi and Hermione promised to explain later.

 

Rigel asked Draco to help him blow out the candle on his birthday cupcake. Rigel immediately gobbled it up when the flame was out. Draco gasped as Rigel ate the candle but Hermione reassured him it was consumable.

 

“A new product from Weasley’s,” she added.

 

“We get stuff for free there because Mummy used to snog a Weasley,” Rigel informed Draco, his nose wrinkling for a second.

 

Draco raised his eyebrows at Hermione in amusement. She sighed heavily.

 

“George,” she simply said in response. Draco nodded, understanding instantly.

 

“I’m sure Scorpius loves that,” Draco commented to break the furrow in her brow.

 

It worked. She smiled and leaned closer to him. He found himself leaning towards her as well.

 

Before she could reply, Rigel cleared his throat dramatically, a hint of Narcissa Malfoy in the sound and the annoyance on his face. Draco grinned widely.

 

“It’s still my day,” Rigel pointed out. Draco shook his head at the reminder.

 

“Well, what shall we do next?” he asked. The day continued with Rigel wanting to show some of the acrobatics that a “brother who shall remain nameless” had taught him and wanting to play some Muggle board games. Around two, Draco noticed Rigel getting irritated easily.

 

Before he started crying because Hermione wasn’t asking the correct questions to guess that the card on her forehead was of a cat, Draco suggested they pause the game.

 

“I’d like to lay down for a bit,” Draco explained. His eyes darted to Hermione briefly, hoping she’d understand. She nodded discreetly. “I get tired so easily now and we’ve been having so much fun I think I should take a rest.”

 

“Rest is very good for you,” Rigel agreed, his face no longer showing signs of a near breakdown.

 

“Rigel, if you’d like to lay down with Papa, I have your special pillowcase and your sleep dragon.” Hermione pulled them out of her bag.

 

“Can I lay down with you, Papa?” Rigel asked sweetly, batting his long eyelashes. Draco smiled.

 

“Of course!” He scooped him into his arms and settled them into his hospital bed. Hermione handed Rigel his special pillow and his sleep dragon.

 

“Can we read ‘The Healer and The Sphinx’ while we rest?”

 

Draco looked to Hermione with a puzzled expression, but she was already pulling out a small chapter book from her bag.

 

“How about I read it so Papa can fully rest,” Hermione suggested. Rigel nodded enthusiastically, cuddling into Draco’s side.

 

…

 

“Draco?”

 

He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione. Amusement sparkled in her eyes. Draco rubbed at his own, wondering when he had fallen asleep.

 

“How long was I out?”

 

“No more than fifteen minutes. I didn’t realize you had fallen asleep. I shouldn’t have woken you up, I’m sure you’re tired,” Hermione said, suddenly standing up as if to leave.

 

“No it’s fine,” he replied. He looked down at Rigel who was curled into his side, clinging tightly to him, his stuffed dragon forgotten.

 

“I was and still am confused about us,” Draco confessed after a moment. Hermione avoided his gaze when he looked up at her. “But this is our son.”

 

Hermione chuckled, sitting down again. She leaned over the side of the bed and brushed her fingers through Rigel’s hair.

 

“In every way,” she whispered.

 

Draco watched her look at Rigel with a different set of love and adoration in her eyes from how she sometimes looked at him. Had Astoria ever looked at Scorpius like that?

 

“I like that,” Draco blurted. Hermione paused in all her movements, including breathing. He gulped audibly. “I like that I can see the both of us in him. Makes everything…real, you know?”

 

“I do,” she replied quietly. She locked eyes with him for the first time since she’d woken him up. Draco smiled at her, and without looking away, he joined her in stroking Rigel’s hair. Their fingers brushed against each other so much they might as well have been holding hands.

 

…

 

The day after Rigel’s birthday, he saw Hermione again. He was surprised when she arrived at his room that afternoon until she revealed Healer Finley had asked to see her. He’d been playing wizarding chess against himself when she walked in, so she took the opposing side.

 

“Not alone, I hope. St. Mungo’s needs its healers alive and well,” he teased. Hermione grimaced at his reminder of the way she’d treated Healer Finley.

 

“Together,” she replied. “I assume they have new information to share.”

 

Draco hummed in response.  He began to tap the table with quick fingers, too engrossed in thoughts of what the healers would say to continue playing chess. Suddenly he was tapping against soft skin and glanced to see Hermione had snuck her palm under his fingers. She dictated her rook to move forward three spaces, paying him no attention. He felt a little calmer tapping against her, so he didn’t point it out and brought his focus back to the game.

 

They finished that game and two others that he let Hermione win, (and she glared at him each time she made her victory move,) before they were finally called to Healer Finley’s office.

 

They sat across from her, much like the first meeting, only this time Hermione reached out her hand to him and Draco held it.

 

“As you remember,” Healer Finley began. “Healer Hashemi theorized that your memory is still intact, it’s just being suppressed by whatever substance Healer Malfoy came into contact with. The most recent test supports this theory. It was observed that your mind was willing and ready to recall the memory that was sparked but suddenly neurons fired in your frontal lobe, activating your body’s danger responses. Your mind warring at whether it is safe or not to remember these memories is what’s causing the pain.”

 

She handed them copies of the reports of the tests. Draco and Hermione silently read through them, continuing to hold hands.

 

“So, there are certain memories my body is told not to remember?” Draco asked for confirmation. Healer Finley nodded.

 

“Memories of the past six years,” she added. “Or so we assume. We’ll need to do your mind trial a few more times before we know for sure, especially since you can only offer so much information on what’s happening to you.”

 

They sat in silence until Hermione sniffled. Draco turned to her, squeezing her hand briefly.

 

“Why did this happen?” she questioned, her voice shaking from the force of holding back her tears.

 

Healer Finley shifted her seat, looking down at the papers in front of her. “I don’t kno—”

 

“It’s important to know the effects of this on my husband but the cause is more important. We can’t help him if we don’t know why this is happening. We can’t fix him,” she paused, covering her mouth as a cry peeked out. Tears started to fall from her closed eyelids. She pulled her hand out of Draco’s to wipe them away hurriedly. Draco looked to Healer Finley with a panicked expression. “We can’t fix him if we don’t entirely know what’s wrong.”

 

“You’re right, Mrs. Malfoy-Granger,” Healer Finley said softly. “However, we don’t have a sample of the substance isolated from Healer Malfoy’s blood and honestly, I think this may be out of St. Mungo’s grasp. Healer Hashemi has contacted some American Mind Healers for consultation and I believe a couple have shown interest in being on the case.”

 

Hermione nodded rapidly, focusing on silencing her cries and controlling her tears. Healer Finley handed her a crystal jar of tissues. Hermione nodded her thanks, still unable to talk.

 

Draco felt completely helpless.

 

“How will the mind trials continue?” Draco asked. He couldn’t come up with a solution, but he could redirect the conversation to the fact that there was progress being made. “I haven’t had another episode.”

 

“Healer Hashemi is contacting your friends and family for memories that they will then prompt you to remember and then monitor your reactions. We’ll also continue monitoring your day-to-day mind functions,” Healer Finley cleared her throat and sat up a bit straighter. “This has been a very turbulent month for the both of you and I think it best for you to both start seeing a psycho-therapist again.”

 

Draco’s eyes widened. _Both?_

 

“I have already spoken to one of the therapists here and he would be willing to have a feel-out session with you both, separately, as I also feel it best to focus on your individual mental health before working on your marriage and its current…standing. You’ve both suffered from severe depression and we’re not going to ignore that as we try to heal Healer Malfoy.”

 

_Both?_

 

“I have been seeing my therapist since Draco woke up from the coma,” Hermione admitted. “I also know the contact information for the therapist Draco was seeing around the time he last remembers. I’m sure it would be easier to speak to her.”

 

“Brilliant,” Healer Finley smiled. “Do either of you have any questions or concerns you’d like to share? We are at the beginning of a long journey and I want there to be no further misunderstandings or disagreements.”

 

“Yes,” Hermione replied, her voice suddenly firm. “I want to be more informed for these trials and any other tests Draco may go through. My opinion also needs to be put into account.” She turned to Draco. “You kept me out of it because of concern for me which I am grateful for, but I would much rather know what is happening than to believe nothing is being done to heal you. You may not remember but I am your wife and feeling left out…” she trailed off.

 

“Understood,” Draco responded immediately. Hermione grinned briefly. Draco offered his hand to her. She stared for a moment before grasping it firmly, tears rushing to her eyes again.

 

“I want to be able to see my family and my friends,” Draco proposed.

 

Healer Finley scrunched her mouth to the side. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with that risk.”

 

“I am,” Draco said. “I can’t be expected to live here for however much longer with no visitors. Just as therapy will help my wellbeing, so will seeing my sons.”

 

Hermione began crying again, blubbering apologies as Healer Finley passed her the crystal jar again.

 

“You said sons,” she explained as she patted underneath her eyelids. Draco let go of her hand to move it into her hair. He began rubbing her scalp in the hopes that it would calm her a bit. Seeing her emotions run so high made his body feel disoriented and his gut empty.

 

“I may be able to create an arrangement that works but you will most likely have a Mind Healer and a team of nurses in the room during these visits.”

 

Draco shrugged. “I don’t mind. What do you think, Hermione?”

 

She smiled gratefully at him. “I think we’ll never make progress on getting your memory back if we hide you from everything you don’t remember.”

 

“Then it’s settled,” Draco said, standing up. He pulled Hermione into a hug that she readily tucked herself into. “Thank you, Healer Finley.”

 

“Of course.”

 

…

 

_Rigel Theodore Malfoy_

_Our first child together, our second, however you want to think of it. He looks so much like a perfect mix between us, it shocks me to this day._

_I found out I was pregnant because I was worried that stress was affecting my body; there were so many things happening at once (stuff I’ve put under the sensitive topic pages,) that I figured the nausea, the bloating, and everything could be solved by a quick potion. I was happily wrong._

_I was so nervous to tell you because we hadn’t talked about kids yet, which in retrospect is ridiculous as we’d been married almost a year at this point. You’d never given me a hint that you wanted more kids and I couldn’t help thinking about the ‘Pureblood Heir’. I found out only a few days before our wedding anniversary so I waited to tell you after, hoping that if there were any problems, we could still have our anniversary as something special and untainted. I was happily wrong once again. It was silly of me to think you wouldn’t be ecstatic. You started crying you were so happy. You were involved in my hospital visits and my care. You gave me your home office to hold meetings with clients after I was put on bedrest. We got our current house around this time because you convinced me we would need bigger space for us to work from home as we filled the house with kids. We talked a lot over the course of my pregnancy: about expectations of us as parents, how we wanted to raise our children, about how we wanted our children to interact with the Muggle and the Wizarding World, especially since we are famous in one of them. Amongst our disagreements over names and how long the kids will sleep in our room, I did agree that if Healer Turner should disrespect our children in any way like he’s disrespected you, you are allowed to curse him (see: Work)._

_Rigel was premature but we were both fortunate to not have any issues. You, however, learned of how things could’ve gone wrong and decided to make premature newborns a new priority (see: Work). He was so tiny and frankly reminded me of a mandrake root but I loved him. You named him the moment you saw him, saying his eyes were so bright, they could outshine Rigel. I suggested his middle name be Theodore and you started crying. Watching the Healers rush to make sure he was okay made me realize that I wouldn’t be able to protect him as well as I could when he was living through me. Then, my father passed away a few months later from a stroke and I slipped into depression (see: Hermione Granger-Malfoy, page 6)._

_Rigel absolutely adores you, much in the way that Scorpius did when I first met him. He can find me quite tiring at moments but he still cries when I leave him at Muggle daycare. He gets along very well with his brothers but him and Scorpius have something of a rivalry that I hope will be resolved sooner than later. He currently sleeps with me and Minerva since he misses you and your coma scared him very much. He dreams of being a Healer just like you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the irony of the chapter title that i've had since i started this chapter all those months ago...
> 
> thanks for reading and the reviews i kept getting even as i kept not updating lol but here's a new one! i make no promises about the next since i can't seem to keep a writing deadline but this fic is far from over and i will always come back to it
> 
> hope you enjoyed :)))
> 
> p.s. can you believe it was only in previewing this that I realized today is Draco's birthday? Happy 39th birthday Draco Malfoy! Sorry you didn't get the Zuko arc you could've had but us fanfic writers are working hard for you


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